Copyright© 2002 Norm DePloom. ALL Rights Reserved
If you don't like sex stories, don't read it.
If you don't like stories bout forced sex, don't read it.
If you are below the arbitrary age set for your area, don't read it.
If for any reason it is illegal for you to read this story, don't read it.
This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached. The author may be contacted at 'MyStores at normdeploom dot com'
All the characters and events in this story are fictional; any resemblance to real people or events is entirely coincidental.
Damn, he better appreciate this, Rosie thought as she pulled up to the dilapidated shack with the weathered 'office' sign hanging precariously over the door. After turning off the engine Rosie stepped out of her car then walked reluctantly toward the building. As she stepped through the door Rosie found herself hoping that the building would remain standing long enough for her to get back outside.
"Hello?" Rosie inquired, her voice barely above a whisper as she stepped up to the dirty counter.
"Hello? Anyone here?" Rosie spoke a little louder. Rosie did her best to avoid touching any of the filthy surfaces around her while she waited for someone to notice her.
"Can I help you little lady?" Rosie jumped when she heard the booming base voice right behind her then spun around prepared to explain to the speaker that she did not appreciate being called 'little lady' in that condescending manner. Her words of protest died un-uttered as Rosie found herself face to chest with a giant of a man wearing oil and grease covered coveralls with, as far as she could tell, nothing underneath them.
"I called," Rosie began to explain, breathing shallowly trying not to smell the combination of oil, grease, dirt and sweat that seemed to be about to suffocate her, "about the part?" Rosie looked up at the giant's face. He looks harmless, she thought. "The part for my boyfriend's car?" She continued when it became obvious that the man had no idea what she was talking about.
"Yes," the corners of the man's mouth turned up into a smile that made Rosie just a tad uneasy, "the part for your boyfriend's car." The man raised his massive arm and pointed out the door with one finger of his beefy hand extended. "Just follow that path to the right." He instructed Rosie, stepping back out the door and pointing at some indeterminate place seemingly beyond the horizon. "The wreck is about halfway through the yard. Did ya bring any tools?"
"What?" Was all Rosie could manage in response.
"This is a you-pull-it place." The man said, obviously expecting that to explain everything to Rosie. "If'n you want a part," the man explained when he realized that Rosie had no idea what he was talking about, speaking in an exaggerated, slow voice like he was explaining the obvious to an idiot, "you've got to pull it out'a the wreck yourself."
"Oh." Rosie responded when she finally realized what the man was telling her. Rosie held her hand up to shade her eyes from the sun and looked up at the face of the man in front of her. "I'd be glad to pay you extra if you would pull it for me." Rosie blushed and became acutely aware of how the wind was blowing her blouse against her body, accentuating her breasts, as the man looked her body up and down.
"O.K. little lady," he continued after apparently deciding that she was good enough looking to do a favor for, "follow me." Rosie very aware of her blush hurried to keep up with the man as he walked into the junkyard with long unhurried strides.
"I don't like being called that." Rosie called after the man as she worked to keep up with him.
"Don't like ta'be called what, mam?" He asked Rosie without slowing down his pace.
"Little lady." Rosie almost shouted, then came to a quick stop to avoid running into the man who had suddenly stopped walking.
"Why not?" He asked turning to look down at Rosie. "You say'n you're not little? Or you say'n you're not a lady?" Rosie was extremely aware of her petite size, especially when confronted by a giant like this man and she always strove to act like a lady. She doubted he would even understand what she was talking about if she used the word 'condescending'.
"It's not that..." Rosie's voice faded as she spoke.
"I never could understand why any woman would object to being called 'little' or 'lady'." He continued. "'Specially when they're a cute little bundle like you." With that the man turned and continued to walk, leaving Rosie debating whether she should continue following him or turn around and head back towards the safety of her car. I've come this far, she thought as she hurried after the junkyard owner, Steve god damn well better appreciate this.
"I didn't mean to insult you." Rosie said as she caught up with him.
"Here we are." Was his only response as he stopped beside a wrecked car setting amongst the other wrecked cars with its hood up; looking like a patient waiting for the doctor to examine its throat.
"I think this is what you're really looking for." The man said as he pulled Rosie over to the car and, putting his hand on the back of her neck, bent her over the cars fender.
"Oh god no." Rosie shrieked as her face was smashed against the cold steel of the oil and dirt covered engine. Rosie tried to fight back but her attempts to kick backwards only seemed to help her attacker work her slacks and panties down her legs to her ankles. After striping her lower body the man, while still holding her head against the engine, pulled first her right then her left hand behind her back where he held her crossed wrists securely in his powerful grip.
"Please mister," Rosie began to beg lifting her head from the cold steel and turning as much as her attacker would allow, to look at him with tears streaming down her cheeks.
"You don't have'ta beg little lady," the man said leaning over Rosie as he forced his hand between her legs, "I'm going to give you exactly what you want." Using his knee to push Rosie's legs further apart the large man easily opened her and pushed his hand against her exposed cunt.
"Please don't hurt me." Rosie begged softly as she, realizing that struggle was futile, relaxed as much as possible against the car resolved to endure the attack with as much dignity as she could muster. He may have been a dirty, sweaty, inbred, redneck, hillbilly but Rosie quickly realized that this man knew his way around the female anatomy.
Held bent over the front fender of a wrecked car, her cheek resting against the cold engine, Rosie quickly realized that she was getting wet. She felt her face burning as the man's finger slipped inside her. Rosie felt the finger probe deeply inside her body before it was removed. Again she lifted and turned her head to see the man unhook the straps and let his coveralls fall to the ground around his ankles. Continuing to hold her crossed wrists in his left hand the man leaned forward until his cockhead pressed against her cunt lips.
"Oh god." Rosie said quietly as she felt her pussy lips parting and stretching to accommodate her attackers hard cock. As the rock hard dick pushed relentlessly into her, stopping the assault only occasionally to pull part way out then resume its inevitable forward movement, Rosie calculated how many days it had been since her last period. She groaned softly with the realization that this redneck rapist could very easily make her pregnant. The forced penetration of Rosie's body continued until she felt the man's kinky pubic hair mashed against the smooth skin of her butt. Rosie had expected the assault to be quick and rabbit-like, several fast hard strokes then, after drenching her insides with potentially pregnancy causing hillbilly cum, to be released to go about her business.
Rosie closed her eyes and tried to pretend that she wasn't being fucked by a smelly redneck in the middle of a filthy junkyard. The man settled into a steady rhythm, pumping his large hard cock in and out of Rosie's now thoroughly wet pussy at an angle which caused it to press and drag firmly against Rosie's 'G' spot with each stroke. Rosie quickly found herself in the middle of a completely humiliating series of orgasms, which followed one upon the other in rapid order, each one surpassing the last in intensity. No matter how hard she tried, Rosie could not stop her wet cunt from clamping down on her rapist's cock and milking it with rhythmic contractions.
"My new little bitch likes fucking." The redneck rapist observed as he reached around and began stroking and pinching Rosie's clitoris.
"No," Rosie panted as her body convulsed with another unasked for orgasm, "please, no." The redneck behind her held him self buried deep in Rosie's pussy and moaned loudly while his cock jerked and twitched, filling her with potentially baby making sperm. He continued to hold himself inside Rosie's twitching and spasming cunt while his cock softened, finally slipping out allowing a stream of his cum to run down Rosie's thigh. Rosie wanted nothing more than for her rapist to release her so she could go home, take a shower and try to forget that this assault had ever happened.
As soon as her wrists were released by her attacker Rosie tried to run but only made one step before she was tripped by her slacks around her ankles and fell face first into the oil drenched, hard packed dirt. Deciding that it was easier to take her pants off completely, than to try to pull them up, Rosie rolled over and removed her feet from the pant's legs before standing up and running back the way she had come. The redneck slowly pulled his overalls back up and fastened the bib with the shoulder straps, while he watched his victim, naked from the waist down running along the path away from him. His clothes back in position, the huge man picked up Rosie's slacks, underwear and purse then walked slowly back towards the office.
Rosie was beyond reasonable thought her only goal was to get to her car and escape the maniac who had just raped her. That her car keys were in her purse, which was in the possession of her attacker, did not occur to Rosie. After running what Rosie estimated to be about three quarters of the way back to her car, Rosie came to a sudden halt when she rounded one of the ubiquitous wrecked cars and found herself facing two snarling vicious looking dogs.
The dogs did not attack, but backed Rosie up against the derelict car and snapped at her crotch and thighs every time she tried to move. As Rosie looked around trying to find a way around the dogs her attacker came around the bend in the path.
"Good boy Stud, good boy Prince." The two dogs sat, blocking Rosie's escape path and panted with their tongues hanging out the sides of their mouths waiting for orders from their owner.